


Like Early Morning Sunshine

by ssswampert



Series: Trans JNPR [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssswampert/pseuds/ssswampert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaune rocked back on his heels and then onto the balls of his feet. “I’m trans.” It didn’t come out in a rush, it didn’t come out as a whisper, and he felt proud that it was getting easier to say.</p>
<p>(Or: Jaune comes out to his parents and then Yang and likes Yang's response better than his parents'.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Early Morning Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> i tagged it as "trans female character" because ruby is a trans girl in my headcanons and i mentioned her near the end, haha. 
> 
> also a warning for brief misgendering and mentions of deadnaming.
> 
> don't ask me what jaune's deadname is bc i don't know and it's not relevant enough for me to try to think of one.

Coming out to Pyrrha (and then Ruby, and then Ren and Nora) had given Jaune a sort of strength. It wasn’t much. It didn’t help during the sparring classes or practicing with Pyrrha on the rooftop after classes.

 

But it was something.

 

And maybe that was why Jaune was at the Transmit System Tower immediately outside of Beacon on his only free day of the weekend. It’d been a while since he’d called home.

 

There were three people in the lobby. Jaune felt like all three sets of eyes in the room were on him as he strode through. And maybe some that weren’t, who knew with the security systems around here. He ducked into the elevator and sighed quietly to himself.

 

“Hello! How may I help you today?” the cheery, automated voice in the elevator made his stomach turn, just a tiny bit.

 

“Uh, I’d, I’d like to go to the communications room, please…” Jaune fumbled his Scroll out of his pocket, knowing the elevator would ask for it.

 

“Of course! Would you please place your Scroll against the terminal to verify your identity?” He did. “Perfect! Thank you, Mr. Arc.”

 

The elevator ride left him feeling more and more dread. That was the last time he’d be called  _ Mister Arc _ for however long it was that he’d be talking to his family. At least he was early enough in the morning that hopefully nobody would be there yet, going by the emptiness of the lobby.

 

“Welcome to the Beacon Cross Continental Transmit Center. How may I help you?” The hologram figure at the front desk had never seemed more intimidating to Jaune than it did in that very moment.

 

“I want to make a call? To the Arc family in Vale?” Dammit. He hadn’t wanted that to sound like a question.

 

“Okay. Please go to terminal sixteen and I’ll patch you through.” The hologram turned away from him, so Jaune trudged into the maze of screens, counting until he reached the right one.

 

He hoped the call wouldn’t go through.

 

The call went through.

 

He hoped his mom wouldn’t answer.

 

His mom picked up.

 

The name she shouted wasn’t his, but he had to answer to it anyways. “Hi, Momma,” he said.

 

“I still can’t believe you cut off all your hair and shipped yourself off to Beacon, honey,” she said, tutting softly. “How you even got in your father and I can’t figure out.”

 

Jaune frowned. “Momma, it’s been an entire semester and then some, you can start believing any time you want. How are the others?” Maybe a different conversational topic would keep them from saying that name too many times.

 

His father pushed his way into view of the camera. “Your oldest sister had her baby last night.” The wrong name got said again. Jaune swallowed back a flinch as best as he could. “Named him after your grandfather.”

 

Jaune had named himself after his grandfather.

 

“That’s… that’s neat, Dad. Tell her and him I said hi,” Jaune gritted out, forcing himself to smile.

 

Every time he tried to change the subject, his parents somehow found out a way to say the wrong name. Over, and over, and over, and over.

 

Fifteen minutes, then thirty, then forty went by.

 

“Look, before I let you go--I, I gotta tell you something.” At least this way if they didn’t like it he could hang up on them.

 

His mother quirked an eyebrow and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What is it, sweetheart? Are you failing? Are you getting sent back? We can have your room ready again in no time.”

 

“No, it’s not that. It’s… I’m not a girl. I’m not, and I haven’t been since I was fourteen, okay. You keep calling me the wrong name and I’m tired of it. My name is Jaune, just like Granddad’s.”

 

His father’s face started darkening in what looked like confusion, and then hurt, and then anger. “I--”

 

Jaune disconnected the call.

 

Hah, like he’d try  _ that _ again.

 

The trek back to his dorm room seemed to take ten times as long when he was holding in sobs with all his Aura’s worth. Hopefully nobody was in the room when he got there. Hopefully he would have time to get over his sour, downtrodden mood before anyone got back.

 

Jaune collapsed onto his bed as soon as he’d made it back to the dorm, not even bothering to shut the door, and let out a long, wordless, frustrated groan into the muffling safety of his pillow. He didn’t know how long he laid there, letting tears leak out of his eyes, until someone else came in.

 

The door shut gently, and footsteps approached him. “Jaune?” Pyrrha touched his shoulder. “I thought you were calling your parents this morning…?” she started hesitantly.

 

“I did.” Jaune kept his face in the pillow.

 

“Oh!” Pyrrha tried to sound cheerful, but sounded wary instead. “How did it go?”

 

Jaune let out another groan.

 

“That bad, hmm?” Pyrrha patted his shoulder.

 

Jaune turned his face out of his pillow to face his teammate. “They kept calling me the wrong name and then when I corrected my dad he got all mad, so I hung up.  _ Dammit _ , Pyrrha! My name’s not--not…” he muffled the wrong name into his pillow.

 

“You’re absolutely right.” Pyrrha continued to pat his shoulder. “Your name is Jaune, not ...that.” He couldn’t tell if she’d understood him, but he liked it better that way.

 

“Thanks, P.” Suddenly, Jaune was more tired than when he’d woken up that morning. He kicked off his shoes and climbed under his blankets. Pyrrha’s hand vanished from his shoulder, and he heard footsteps lead away from him. Great, now she was leaving too.

 

Another blanket spread itself over him. It wasn’t one of his; it was lighter, less bulky, it smelled like light perfume and detergent. “I know you like weight from blankets,” Pyrrha said. Jaune couldn’t help a small smile. “So please hold onto that for me, and I’ll be back shortly.”

 

The door clicked shut behind her.

 

Jaune lifted his head and looked at the blanket Pyrrha had draped over him. It was maroon and patterned with cutesy cartoony Ursai, worn with age, and very soft to the touch. This wasn’t just a spare blanket: it was Pyrrha’s  _ favorite  _ blanket.

 

He pulled it higher and tucked it around his shoulders. It was nice of her to lend him her favorite blanket when he was feeling down. That thought had him feeling peaceful enough to drift into a doze, blanket tucked under his cheek.

 

Jaune sat up when the door opened again. Pyrrha came in, balancing takeout boxes and paper cups on one arm and gripping plastic forks in cellophane sleeves in her fist. “Here!” she said, setting it all down on a nearby table and bringing half of it to him. “I brought you breakfast!”

 

“You used a meal in the cafeteria on me?” Jaune asked, bewildered. “You didn’t have to!”

 

Pyrrha smiled. “I know! And you can make it up to me by using one of yours and swiping me in when you’re feeling better!”

 

Jaune set the takeout box on his lap and pried up the lid of the paper cup. “You brought me hot chocolate?” He grinned at her, and she flushed up to her ears.

 

“I couldn’t remember you ever saying whether you had a preference for coffee or tea, so I improvised,” she defended, thrusting the forks at him. Jaune plucked a fork from her grasp and popped open the takeout box. “I figured with how often Nora coerces Ren into pancake night you’d want something different.” She gestured loosely at the pile of waffles in the box.

 

“I do like Ren’s pancakes, but waffles are a good variation sometimes,” Jaune said, shoving a forkful of waffle into his mouth. “And I do love a good mug of hot chocolate. It’s nice and soothing,” he said.

 

Pyrrha giggled. “It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, Jaune,” she pointed out teasingly.

 

“I know, I know,” Jaune replied, waving his fork. “But when you’ve got seven other siblings, you gotta talk when you can!” Pyrrha hid her amusement by opening her own takeout box. While Jaune’s she’d brought cups and cups of syrup, hers was syrup-free and instead piled high with berries and slices of apples.

 

“Can you catch food in your mouth like Yang?” she asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

 

Almost as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. “Jaune?” Yang’s voice rang clearly through the wood. “Can I talk to you?”

 

Jaune and Pyrrha exchanged confused glances. Jaune set aside his takeout box and stood to open the door. “What’s up?” he asked as the door swung open. Yang freed her fingers from a twisted lock of her hair and curled her bare toes into the hallway carpet. She sidestepped into the room, and Jaune pushed the door shut again.

 

“I just… I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Yang said, fielding looks of confusion from the teammates in front of her. “In the past I’d made fun of your masculinity to Ruby and Weiss.” Jaune swallowed hard and ignored the feeling of ice settling into his stomach. “A couple days ago Ruby told me that I should apologize for that, because if it got back to you it could hurt you worse than I thought.”

 

“Did she, uh, tell you exactly why?” Jaune took a deep breath, glad his voice worked when he needed it to for once. Even if Ruby had, he found himself not minding, not if Yang was apologizing for something he hadn’t even heard.

 

Yang shook her head. “She said it wasn’t her place when I asked.”

 

“So you’re apologizing regardless?” Pyrrha piped up, her own takeout box set aside even though she hadn’t budged from her spot.

 

“I mean, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.” Yang shrugged, and tossed blonde hair over her shoulder. “I trust Ruby’s judgement. If she says I should apologize for something and she looks as serious as she did the other night, then I’ll do it no questions asked.”

 

Jaune had Yang in a tight hug before he realized that’s what he was doing. “I forgive you,” he said, laughing a little when her arms came around him and squeezed just as tight. “Thank you.” As he let Yang go, he heard Pyrrha sigh happily behind them. “Y’know,” he started slowly. “Ruby and I have more in common than you’d think.”

 

The blonde’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you?” she asked, cautiously. “How so.”

 

Jaune rocked back on his heels and then onto the balls of his feet. “I’m trans.” It didn’t come out in a rush, it didn’t come out as a whisper, and he felt proud that it was getting easier to say.

 

Yang softened like warm butter. Her grin spread like early morning sunshine. “You know I’m gonna stick up for you just like I do Ruby, right?” she asked, bringing up her fists into a loose fighting stance made no less effective by her pajamas.

 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Sis.” Jaune’s grin matched Yang’s in intensity and sunshine.

  
Yang’s smile turned watery. “You’re a jerk! You’re gonna make me cry this early!” she screeched, slinging an arm around his neck, drawing him in tight, and ignoring his cries of  _ It’s noon, lemme go! _ to ruffle his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> i just want yang and jaune to be like brother and sister ok so im writing them that way.  
> ren and nora were also gonna make an appearance but i couldn't figure out a good place to fit them in ;;;; i'm a bad jnpr writer


End file.
